Leaving Memories Behind
by Neon Rouge
Summary: She takes a step back and looks at the girl in the mirror, she keeps telling herself that it’s Temari, that it's her, but it just couldn't be - Temari centric, oneshot


**A/N: **_Yay for angst and all things tragic._

_I have about six projects being written, this summer is going to be filled with updates._

_In possibly a few hours the second chapter of 'An intricately woven relationship' will be up._

**Disclaimer: **_One day I am going to need to contain my sanity with someone else's help..._

* * *

The day her brother dies, she doesn't even bat an eyelash and merely receives the news with a solemn nod of her sandy head and half-lidded eyes.

Her remaining sibling remains astounded with her lack of emotion, and asks her how she could be like that, how she could be so heartless, emotionless.

It was a question that even she herself couldn't answer.

At Gaara's funeral she doesn't let her tears flow like Kankuro does, like the other attendees do.

She stares at all of them passively with something like a glare in her teal eyes, thinking how foolish it was for people who didn't even _know _him to express such emotions so freely, so absentmindedly.

"Temari." Her brother attempts, voice still shaking with tears.

"I don't want to talk about it, Kankuro." She pushes him away with her words, playing with the hem of her dress angrily, gritting her teeth in order to suppress whatever was collecting in her eyes.

Kankuro looks away with saddened eyes, his hair uncombed and clothes dishevelled, too sad to speak with a steady voice.

It was just so stupid, so _stupid, _for the Kazekage to die like this, to be killed by someone in such a short time, in such little space.

She doesn't even want to know why he protected the village that had pushed him aside for so long, that had dismissed him with their words of scorn and torment, the village that and made him suffer for all these years.

_Fourteen years. _The thoughts rush through her mind, almost as if it was a storm brewing after havign been suppressed for so long, _Fourteen years of living with the hate of others._

She looks away with dark eyes as the coffin is lowered into the ground, the sunlight bouncing off the gleaming mahogany and into her eyes in such an inappropriate way that it's sickening.

* * *

Two days from the funeral she receives a message from one of her fellow shinobi, she nods her head and heads to the village council to speak with one of the members.

She is given a highly dangerous A-class mission which she is required to complete without errors or mistakes made.

It was a seduction mission, an area which was not unfamiliar to her, yet something which made her unsure of herself, almost scared of what she was capable of and what she wasn't.

She stands in her apartment, leaning so close to the mirror that she can see all the flaws of her face as she applies the deep blue hue to her eyes with robotic movements, the pencil moving smoothly along her eyelids as they taint the alabaster flesh with their colour, their perfect hue seeming to be mismatched alongside her eyes.

She grabs the tube of mascara and sloshes it messily over her sandy eyelashes, granting them an entirely different colour and length, as she finishes covering her last eyelash with the clumpy liquid she makes a grab for the lipstick. She removes the lid and turns the tube in her fingers until the blood-red material begins to reveal itself. She opens her mouth and covers her perfectly pink lips with the lipstick, granting her a more sophisticated look which she hates.

She takes a step back and looks at the girl in the mirror, she keeps telling herself that it's Temari, that it's herself, but the image just doesn't register anything in her memory, almost as if it's an entirely different girl staring at her from inside the mirror.

It just isn't _her._

With one final glance at the mirror and another deep breath to keep her eyes from ruining the makeup with their tears, she leaves her apartment, looking back at the door once she's closed it and wondering if she'll ever come back.

_(Because she knows that she might not.)_

As she leaves the building and enters the fresh night air, she shuts her eyes for a moment and remembers the time when they were known as the sand siblings.

With a deep breath she walks towards her destination and keeps her face painfully passive.

_(Because she is Temari of the Sand.)_

She gulps down her nervousness as she arrives outside the building that is where her mission is to take place. She thinks about the risks she is going to take but doesn't let any lukewarm tears stain her cheeks.

When she thinks of death and Gaara's funeral nothing happens.

_(Because she can't remember how to cry anymore.)_

_Meh, I get inspired too easily._

_R and R?_


End file.
